Drowning
by Emango23
Summary: This is very loosely based off the One Piece world, centering around Krillik, a fishman who is captured and sold into slavery in the South Blue. It's through his eyes that we see the human world, and the kindness and cruelty of both species. I'm sorry if its not completely OP accurate, he was originally a One Piece OC of mine that I decided to elaborate, but I hope you like it
1. Chapter 1

I'm not exactly sure how to go about doing this, but I guess we all have to start somewhere, right? It's not like my story is just going to write itself. If that were possible, I believe I would have already finished, my life's work done, my novels and desks and drawers and shelves of literature piled high on their shelves, dusty with use. But there is no muse, there is no scribe that sits by your shoulder and records your events, there's not even a pen that follows your every command, furiously scribbling your dictation with a looped swirl of its feathery tip. No, a book is a thing which you have within yourself, something you hold dear, and must come out of you in shouts and sketches and ink upon pieces of parchment. Every novel written has a story that the writer holds dear. This is my story.

Now, where to begin, where to begin.

Ah.

Let's set the scene, shall we? A little house, with gently curving walls, and wooden cups and plates stacked haphazardly in the cupboard. The house is small and slightly cluttered, but clean and smells of lily water. The occasional fish drifts through the open window, then darts its way outside with a flick of its tail. A small flare of luminescent light shines in one corner of the room, a tropical lime green, pulsing like a heartbeat. A young creature stares at the brightness with large, curious eyes, his mouth slack with wonder.

The boy is a gangly little thing, his skin white and frog-like, a plain of electric blue and yellow freckles sprinkling his visage. He holds up a trembling, webbed hand to the fire, then pulls it back at the surprising heat. As he does, his hair, a tangled mess of white tentacles, becomes straight and rigid with fear. Simultaneously, another pair of tentacles wrap around his arm protectively, pulling him back from the throbbing flames. The young boy looks straight upwards with mild surprise, which quickly turns to a wide, mischievous grin "I wasn't gonna touch it" He complains happily, and leans back on the form behind him. "You scare me" She replied with slight exasperation, taking her son's small frame in her eight arms. She closed her eyes and smiled, resting her head on Krillik's. This is Morella, a woman of gentle words and temper like molasses. She walks lightly upon the earth, or rather swims on it. As the two sit together by the fire, the front door opens slowly, a head poking its way around the door " Hey hey hey" it says with the slightly embarrassing yet endearing air of a father. This is Exaq, Krillik's father. He is, much like his son, a tall and lanky fishperson, with a tripulette of translucent fins decorating his arms, calves and head, forming a Mohawk of sorts that travels down his skull and the back of his neck, waning and connecting with the skin on the small of his back like a wave. He has a rather timid nature, and has a habit of picking up and playing with a variety of interesting objects, which his son had picked up after him. Exaq entered the house, and Krillik left his mother's grasp with an impatient shrug, running to his father and looking upwards at him with obvious excitement. "Did you bring me anything?" he asks, his hair curling in happiness. "Well…maybe" Exaq laughed, producing a small brown package from behind his back which he had previously been trying to hide. "You always know the days I bring gifts, don't you", getting a happy and sheepish grin from his son. He bent down, putting the package in Krillik's outstretched hands.

Krillik tore open the package, barely concealing the excitement. Inside the brown, waxy paper lay a candle stick, its once-shiny silver dull and scratched from the countless particles of rock and sand that had rubbed against its surface at the bottom of the ocean. Krillik's eyes widened in wonder, and he took the thing from its packaging gingerly, the way one may handle a precious artifact, for to him that's what it was. He held the thing up to the greenfire, watching its remaining brightness gleam in his small hands. He watched the candle stick intently, brows furrowed, eyes darting along its slender body. He looked up, grinned, and turned to his father. "Thank you!" he yelled, throwing himself at the man, who caught him with mild surprise. Exaq worked at the border patrol of their city, Laugina, scouting for humans. Humans are weak, cowardly, vile creatures who wanted nothing more than to see the world burn, as long as they all get to own a piece of it. Exaq was one of the protectors of their city, a rather willowy person for someone who does this sort of task. But he takes his job very seriously. As Krillik returned from his father's embrace and back to studying the human object, his father sat down next to Morella on the floor, gently pecking her cheek as she smiled and blushed like a schoolgirl, the way she always did when he came home. The two had a very special bond between them. It was not a maddening love, that would drag the two under their own desire, but neither was it cold, nor too hot and full of passion. It was child's love, really, nothing more, a sweet tulip with silken petals that enjoys blossoming gently in the spring, yet is able to brave the harsh winters. As Krillik played with his new toy, the two exchanged small smiles, and turned to look at the greenfire, content.

Krillik ran to his room with the candlestick, flopping down on his bed, candlestick raised high and his face skyward, twirling the thing in his hands. He then sat up and went over to the dresser, placing the object gingerly on the surface. He had never even seen a human before, and the gifts that his father found while on patrol were a source of excitement and mystery. On his desk sat a variety of objects: an ornate mirror, a few shards of glass still hanging onto the frame, a flower pot with a few remaining stains of paint on its rim, the spines and jackets of books, their pages long disintegrated and removed, as they had filled Krillik's room with flurries of paper, the way ash from a fire may float about in the air. One of his favorite items though, was the ship model.

It was I decent condition, if not a bit worse for wear. A few of the sails had been ripped, though lovingly patched with bits of cloth. The mast sported a young maiden, arms crossed and hair in ringlets down her back. She wore a stoic expression, though had a sort of secretive humor in her eyes. The boat itself was long and narrow, with miniature railings and levels below deck. It was painted a dark navy blue, with once-bright white borders and edges. Krillik loved to play with the thing, reenacting the adventures and voyages of the swarthy young men of the seas, finding treasure, rescuing villages, the heroes of the people above the water. He had created a cast of characters, from the brave and strong-willed Captain Remus to the stately and orderly navigator, Thrames, to the evil and diabolical antagonist, Malsapi. The captain and his crew always managed to defeat Malsapi, even when he seemed to have them wrapped around his finger the day being saved seemed hopeless. Krillik also had a fascination with the ship itself, its slender frame and specific shape, built for enduring life above the surface of the water. Krillik picked up the ship with a self-thought-to-be master eye, and turned it around in his webbed fingers, noting the name inscribed in gold on the side. "The Dante Maria" was the prize of his human collection.

Putting the boat down carefully, he made his way down to the main floor, his footfalls light and echoing on the submerged stairs. As he went, he began to hear a low, humming noise. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, both his parents were up from the fireplace, and his father was reaching for his harpoon gun. His mother sat in the kitchen, worry lines creasing her scalp, chewing her lip the way she did when she was nervous. Krillik was taken aback by the scene before him, the humming noise aiding to the urgent air. "What's wrong" he said quietly to his mother, a bit of nervousness creeping into his voice. "Oh, it's nothing" she responded quickly, too quickly. "Mom-"he said in a tight voice. "It's nothing, listen to your mother" his father said with a smile, yet his eyes still held worry. "What's going on?" Now he was scared. Morella swam to him, wrapped her arms around his shoulders and looked him in the eye. "It's okay, there was just a human break-in, there's no doubt that the patrol will catch them." With a little twinkle in her eye, she continued "they will lock them up and make them pay for coming down here. It's just like one of your stories, good always wins". She rubbed her delicate nose against his little stubby one and smiled. "We're fine." Krillik felt his heart slow and his shoulder release their tension, and let out a small smile. The humming continued, but it did not get any louder or softer, so the family went on with their normal lives, though Exaq kept a hand on the harpoon gun, occasionally glancing at the front door with a furrowed brow.

The hours passed on, day turned to night, night to day, the filtered sun through the water, ebbing and returning with the time., The humming continued, though had lost much volume "it's now just on alert, the humans have not been captured or gone back to the surface, but they haven't made any moves against us. They're oxygen tanks are probably almost empty by now" Krillik's father mentioned to Krillik, when he saw his son looking out the window, mouth thin and eyes wide. The day went on relatively smoothly; his father went back on patrol, called to the place where the humans had first been spotted, and his mother stayed at home with the boy.

Then everything went downhill.

First, the sirens went back to their first pitch, humming urgently, reverberating and bouncing through the water like rabbits through a hole. A message was sent from house to house that the humans had been spotted again. An alert stating 'do not leave your home unless in an emergency". As the day went on, the humming swelled, and the reports began to show up. Homes were being invaded along the border on the east side. "Two reported dead, both being swimmers, thirteen missing, most probably captured" was the most recent message. Krillik did not leave the window for an instant, and his father clenched his harpoon gun in his webbed fingers, running one delicately over the trigger of the weapon. Morella sat by the fire, and called Krillik over multiple times, but he refused to move. That night, the humming increased dramatically: none of the hunters, as they were now called, had been neither captured or killed, and had taken twenty-six hostage with five casualties. Krillik began to cry as the messenger ran the news through the street in his high-pitched, official voice.

That night his father did not return home until very late, with bags under his eyes and knuckles white from clenched hands. Morella quickly swam to him when he arrived home, hugging him and crying "I thought- I thought that-" she stammered as she looked at his tired face, then gave a small smile, which he returned. He took her into his arms in a comforting embrace. "I-I'm glad you're okay" she whispered into his ear, a tear rolling down her face as they hugged. "I'm okay, I'm okay" he murmured to her consolingly.

He then turned to Krillik, squatting down to meet his son's watery eyes. "Are you okay?" he asked him, who in turn nodded quickly, wiping away his inky tears with embarrassment. "When are you going to catch them?" he sniffed, holding onto his father's hand. "We don't know, soon though, very soon". With a wink and another smile, Exaq picked up Krillik and walked him up the stairs to his room, the sirens softer behind the bedroom curtains. He put Krillik in his bed and gave him one more smile before closing the door gently and returning downstairs. Krillik could hear the sound of the gun being lifted from its hook again, the cold metal scraping against the wall as he lifted the object from its resting place which it had but just landed on. Exaq's words echoed in Krillik's ears, and his lower lip trembled and his eyes became inked again as the humming continued through the night. He fell asleep to the thought, the selfish thought that he cupped in his hands and curled around for a sense of comfort, _"At least I'm okay."_

But it didn't last


	2. Chapter 2: Blood in the Water

The next day Exaq left the house in the morning, giving his wife and son a tired, humorous salute before leaving the house, the door closing with a resounding thud. The day dragged by slowly, the humming keeping up its maddening pitch, a warning to the people, an omen of loss and grief. "Why would humans be down here?" Krillik asked his mom around midday, though he already knew the answer.

For hundreds of years, if not more, humans and fishmen have not… see eye to eye, to put it gently. There had been wars, turmoil, rebellion, isolation, and discrimination between the warring species. Fishpeople considered the humans weak and cowardly, unable to swim and breathe underwater, yet having the audacity to call themselves the superior race. Humans, on the other hand, considered fishpeople to be freaks of nature, a blip in evolution, monstrous savages that attacked ships and dragged people to their watery graves. For hundreds of years it had been this way, with different ways of dealing with each other, sprouting up from time to time. But there was one ritual that was practiced throughout the generations: Slavery.

It was much more common for humans to own fishpeople, as keeping a human slave was a difficult task, giving them an air supply and keeping them fed was much more difficult than keeping a fishperson, who can survive on very little food and who can breathe both above and below the water. It wasn't uncommon for humans to attack a village. Apparently, a long time ago fishpeople could live on land in peace, with an intricate web of treaties and laws between the two species, but war had broken out, tearing down these careful constructs, reducing them to no more than lengthy words scrawled on stacks of paper.

Since then, the fishmen and humans had been at a cold war, neither wanting an all-out struggle, but both ready to kill the other without much remorse.

But Krillik's mother simply responded "They are here to hurt us."

As the day crawled onwards, the sirens became louder and louder, the humming turning into a shrill whine that pierced the ears, evoking fear in the people's hearts. But that was what it's supposed to do, right? Bring fear? This was not a game, this was not a fantasy, this was a grim reminder of the years of rivalry and hatred. Krillik began to cry again, embarrassed at his tears. He was such a crybaby. And what was he doing to help, while his father was out there with the monsters? Absolutely nothing, just watching the occasional air bubble spiral lazily to the roof, and checking the window for signs of life. The day turned to night, and Exaq had still not returned home. "W-where's dad?" he whispered to his mother, who wrapped his arms around him again in a comforting hug, though was trembling slightly. "I don't know, he's probably fine."

After another long while in waiting, someone knocked on the door. "Who is it?" Morella called, not moving from her hug. "It's the patrol, please let us in." She opened the door slowly to find two fishmen wearing helmets and carrying harpoon guns outside the door, one with a face of stone, the other's crinkled with pity. "Your husband, Exaq Lencast, has been injured. He is currently in urgent care. I'm very sorry." Said the stony faced one, as the other one, apparently younger, stood by him, swishing his tail nervously.

Morella covered her mouth with a tentacle, her eyes widening in shock, then filling with inky, black tears. "Exaq…" she gasped, struggling for breath. Krillik looked up at his mother in shock. He had never seen her cry before. He gave her another hug, but did not cry. He felt numb and cold, even in his mother's warm embrace. "Is he going to be okay?" he asked the patrol, remembering his father's words the night before. "We don't know yet, from our current knowledge, he hasn't been stabilized yet." The younger man piped up "He's a good soldier, no doubt he'll pull through". With that, the older soldier gave the younger a cold glare. "Don't get their hopes up, Malako. I bid you farewell, Mrs. Lencast. Stay safe, and don't unlock the doors just because someone says that they're soldiers." With that grim reminder, the soldiers left.

Morella dropped to the floor, letting her tentacles sprawl across the wood, and covered her eyes, letting out choked sobs. Krillik still stood at the doorway, hoping it would open and his father would come through the door. They couldn't visit him, and no one was daring to risk going outside, not even the messengers anymore. They lived in a small town, only a few hundred strong, and the idea of a human attack was practically unheard of. This was madness, this was chaos. Krillik ran to the window again, searching for someone, anyone, but all of the houses lining the street were dark, not even the fish were swimming around anymore, as if they sensed the city was holding its breath. Then, Krillik saw something. On the hill that he had played on not five days ago, something was stirring. He pressed his face against the glass, cupping his hands around his eyes to get a better look into the darkness. For a while everything was still, then the thing moved again. Krillik watched with wide eyes as two, four, seven forms appeared on the hill, some crouching, on their hands and knees. _"Who are they?"_ the child thought to himself as he watched the figures gather. Their heads were very rounded, and they seemed to be carrying some kind of weaponry. "Maybe they're more of the patrol?" he wondered. They were gesturing to each other, and one pointed with their hand. Krillik's pupils shrunk in terror. The person's wrist was thin, branching into a larger hand. They had five fingers, all but one curled into the others in a gesture of pointing. But the thing that made Krillik recoil was the lack of webbing. No matter the shape or size of a fishperson, they always had webbing between their fingers, if they had fingers at all. It was a symbol of pride, of being able to swim, and something that humans lacked. Whatever was on top of the hill wasn't a fishperson. It was human.

Krillik backed away from the window as quickly as he could, falling in the process and landing on the floor. He went over to his mother, nudging her shoulder with both hands. "There's humans outside" he whispered in a frightened voice. His mother didn't respond, her face still buried. "Mom, we have to hide, mom!" He whispered louder, pushing harder but she wouldn't move. Her shoulder were wracking with sobs. "Mom!" he finally shouted, then covered his mouth with both hands in shock, his hair falling straight and limp. He was too afraid to look out the window again. _"Did they hear me?"_ he wondered in stricken panic, and backed away from his mother. His foot hit the bottom of the stair and, without looking back, ran up to the second floor and into his room, closing the door. He passed by his miniature ship, its delicate rigging and ever-so-carefully mended sails, with a look of fear. In a sudden rage, he swiped his hand across the counter, the boat crunching slightly at his force, then falling slowly to the floor like a sinking ship. One of the sails now hung lopsided on the frame, and the crow's nest sported a new large crack. The boy went to his closet, and brought out his small wooden bat, then went to his bed, covering himself in sheets, inadequate protection against the monsters outside.

Breathing in quick, shallow gasps, he listened for any noises outside. However, the sirens still blared, making it near impossible to hear anything but its tireless scream. The water around him became thick from confinement, and he took his head out from under the sheets, drawing in a deep breath. At the same instant, he could hear gruff whispers of people outside.

It was nothing but a few grunts and the occasional hissing noise of a loud whisper, but it could be heard nothing less. Sound traveled far underwater. Krillik came out from under the sheets and stood in his room stock-still. His mother was still downstairs. Torn between keeping himself safe or checking on his mother, Krillik glanced from the window to the door, then back to the window, where no doubt the humans were lurking, maybe even outside their door.

No, not outside the door.

The sound of something ramming against the door, then the splintering of wood. A man's voice could be heard talking in a slow, drawling voice, though his words couldn't be deciphered. Krillik backed as far away from the door as he could. Then he heard his mother. "There's no one here, it's just me, and you already killed my husband." His mother's voice was cold and dripping with venom, nothing like her usual tenderness and calm. _"Leave."_ Krillik thought with rising terror. His mother was still down there, trying to _talk_ to the monsters, out of all things. There was no choice. Steeling himself, he flung open his door and ran down the stairs, stopping when he saw the scene in front of him: six or seven humans, completely covered in some sort of black suit, stood around Morella. Three held small black objects, two with their fingers on the triggers. They all wore round objects on their heads, and had black boxes on their chest, a red tube connecting the two. "Mom-" Krillik started to shout, then cut short when one of the humans pointed a black object at him. "You said you were alone" the human spat at Morella, a sickening grimace of a smile spreading across his face and square jaw. "A young one too. How old are you kid?" The human walked over and squatted down in front of him, lowering his gun and putting on a terrible, friendly demeanor. Krillik didn't respond. "I asked for your age, son." The man's temporary façade dropped almost as quickly as it was put on. He raised the gun again. "Answer me when I ask you a question".

"E-eight" he stammered, clenching the small bat he still held in his hand, and flicked his sight to his mother in silent terror. "And what's your name, boy?" The man drawled on. "Krill-Krillik" He responded in a whisper. "Okay Krillik, well, you're gonna come with us, okay?" The man smiled in his disgusting way again, his top left canine missing. "What are you going to do with him?!" His mother screamed, tentacles lashing furiously. She was grabbed by four of the men, but struggled against their grasp, tentacles whipping and swatting the air. "Don't you touch him, you monsters!" she cried. "Oh, we're the monsters? Get a mirror" The man flung over his shoulder at Morella, who struggled harder. Krillik watched the scene before him like a deer in the headlights. When he could at last find his words, he murmured "W-where are you going to take m-me?" "Oh, a very nice place, you'll like it" the man smirked. "But I wanna stay here." Krillik whispered. Now he was talking to the monsters. Wonderful. "But you aint got nothing here, kid" The man said, then turned back to his men. "This one have legs?" he asked one of the men. "No sir." He grunted as Morella struggled against his capture. "Well then it's no use to us, now is it?" he turned to one of the other humans, pointed at Krillik's mother, and put a thumb down.

"But sir, he's just a child-"

"Do it."

"But, sir-"

"Do. It."

….

"Yes sir."

A gunshot.

Morella arched her back as the bullet passed through her chest, then fell limp, her tentacles dropping to the ground, twitching and curling. Blood rose from her body, staining the water crimson. The men on either side released her, and the shooter held his jaw firm, but his gun was trembling slightly.

Krillik couldn't move, only watch as the blood floated upward. He tilted his head upward as the tainted water rose to the ceiling, mouth slack. He fell to his knees, his body limp. "Heh, surprised the thing had red blood" the 'boss' commented. At those words, Krillik was engulfed in a fiery anger, a burning passion that roared through his veins. He screamed a bloodcurdling cry, and flung himself at the human's boss, trying to hit him with the bat. His bat was slow in the water though, only hitting against his knees with a small thud, making the man smirk. "Stop it! Stop it!" He screamed, and grabbed on to the human's leg, digging his nails into his clothes, and bit down hard, ripping through the material. "Agh!" the man yelled, grabbing Krillik's shoulders. Krillik bit down harder, tasting the man's blood on his teeth, coating his tongue. He could taste bile building up in his throat, and the molten tears that were moments from streaming down his face. The man tried to yank the boy from his leg, but his teeth were sunk in, like a shark, sharp little canines. "Damn it! I'll kill you too, you damn brat!" The man roared, pulling out his gun and putting it against Krillik's head, through his white tentacle hair, which he had so often thought made him look like his mother.

"Spit it out! Out!" the man yelled, like a master to a dog, holding the lever with a finger. At that moment, Krillik wanted to die. He wanted that bullet to tear his brain to pieces, and leave him on the floor. But some primitive instinct made him fear the gun, made him want to hold onto his life like fish on a hook. He slowly released his mouth from the man's leg, glaring up at him with thinly veiled fury, his mouth making the water around him as red as the water around Morella. He bared his teeth at the human, ink-black tears mixing with the blood.

The man bent down to grab his leg after he had released it, and looked at Krillik, eyes full of hate. "I could kill you right now." He said threateningly, pointing the gun at the boy again. Then he turned the gun around in his hand, smiling slightly. "You're probably worth a lot, though. Young, prime condition, strong walker, plus the kids these days love colorful fish." He gestured at the boy's highlighter-yellow and blue freckles. "Come on" He grabbed Krillik's arm, and dragged him towards the door.

"Stop it!" he screamed, pulling against the men's strong arms, desperately trying to get to his mother's unmoving form. "Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! Stop-"He felt a sharp pain in his side, and looked down to find a dart with a plume of yellow feathers stuck in his arm. He suddenly felt sick. His mother swam before his eyes, the humans large, looming shadows above his head. The bile in throat his rose again, and he vomited on the ground in front of him, the sick mixing with the water. "Aw, great. You gave him too much, Arthur." Before passing out, Krillik grabbed at the air once more in front of him, webbed hands cutting through the water. "Mom…" He murmured groggily, then everything went black.


End file.
